Cellmates
by MariPotato
Summary: Arkham Asylum is overcrowded, and some villains end up having to share their cells with somebody else. What will happen when the Master of Fear finds himself paired up with somebody else? Will turn romantical in the next chapters. ScarecrowxIvy
1. Hate

In and out. In and out. That would have sounded horribly wrong if the subject of all this travelling had been anybody else but Jonathan Crane, also known as the Scarecrow.

By this time, the handcuffs had left their marks on his wrists permanently, they were hurting his skin as blades would, while he was being led by the Arkham guards to his cell. Many patients would call Arkham their family, but he wasn't one for that: despite all the respect he had earnt among the Rogues, their bond was far from familiar or even friendly.

And speaking of respect, all his thoughts were interrupted by those cold, unsettling, disturbing laughs coming from one of the cells, the one belonging to the Clown Prince of Crime, the man who hadn't respected him not even from the start. The Joker seemed delighted by the Scarecrow's entrance, Jonathan was probably the person he liked to make fun of the most.

"Hey Sticks, what happened now? Rejected by some ladies and then fear-gassing them? That wouldn't surprise me, your advances aren't that charming anyways!"

Jonathan opened his mouth to speak, but as the first sound was about to come out of his troath, he shook his head, sighing as he tried his best to ignore him and keep all the insults inside. However, he knew the clown wouldn't have stopped bugging him either way.

"Awwww c'mon puddin'! Ya know it's not nice to make fun of peeps, expecially when it comes to Johnny, ya know he's ma' bud!"

Soon enough, some giggles began to build up from the Joker's cell: his henchwoman was trying to keep her laughs and smiles for herself, while trying to protect his friend as well. Jonathan's disappointed grew, but in a matter of seconds his observant eye spotted that something was wrong. In all honestly, plenty of things were. Starting from Arkham cells smell and ending up with the Joker's presence. But apparently, what caught Crane's eye was something different and completely irrelevant. Why the hell was Harley in the Joker's cell?

These thoughts were cut off by the click of his handcuffs being unlocked, which was followed by the Scarecrow being shoved in his cell.

The cell was exactly how he had left it: dark, spooky, silent. Maybe not as silent as he remembered it, thanks for the Joker's laughter echoing in the corridor. He had gone through enough, at least for that day, and all he wished for was to sleep. It would have be hard with the clown's constant heckling, but Jonathan was way too tired to care. He sat on the bed, burying his face in his hands, his tired eyes closed against his palms. At least, from what he could tell, Arkham beds had finally been changed, and they felt way softer and warmer- ...warm?

Beds weren't supposed to be warm, at least not if there wasn't somebody in. As soon as these realizations hit, the bed, or at least what was supposed that to be, started to move under Crane's body, forcing him to stand up. In the darkness of the cell, he quickly looked for a torch he had left there during his last 'visit', and with trembling hands he pointed it at the silhouette, to reveal a very sleepy and confused Poison Ivy sitting on the bed. Some brief moments of silence followed. Jonathan was speechless as he saw the woman wrapped in his sheets.

"I understand your shock in being so close to a woman but, you see, I was trying to rest. Could you stop pointing that thing at me so I can continue what I was doing?"

A mix of anger and surprise started to build up in his gut. How could Poison Ivy dare to talk to him like that? He was the mighty and respected Master of Fear, and he wasn't willing of taking orders from anybody!

"Excuse me, but you're in my cell, sleeping in my bed. How am I supposed to sleep?"

"That's not my business, Crane. Not anymore apparently. There aren't enough cells anymore, hence why most people here will have to share their own with somebody else. Meet your new cellmate." she smiled, throwing the bed sheets at her side and standing up, her hands tapping on her hips "I'm sorry but the bed is mine. I wouldn't want to argue, but I came here first. And since you guys are the ones always defending your manly rights, I guess that I, as a woman, should have the bed. That's not that much of an issue anyway, the floor is pretty much just as comfortable... or if you really want the bed, we could share, couldn't we?"

Heat ran upon Crane's cheeks, slowly matching with the woman's hair. He felt extremely angry, Ivy's words unsettling him in a disgusting way. He wasn't gonna give up for that bed, and he wasn't gonna share it. He was the Master of Fear, not an occasional killer who had randomly ended up in Arkham.

As the plant lady turned away from him and sat on the bed, she yawned as she returned to sleeping. Jonathan roughly grabbed her wrist and faced her, throwing her to the cold floor. Ivy let out a moan, glaring at him with wrath-filled eyes. Quickly jumping up, she leapt onto him and pinned him down. Her strong thighs were pressing against his hips in a bone-crushing grip. Jonathan felt harmless under her body. His scrawny figure wasn't known for being good at this kind of fighting. He was nothing more than harmless by this point. He only managed to punch her a few times, before being pinned down again. The woman was reckless, she could have killed him in a matter of seconds. If only he had his fear-toxins... although he was pretty sure they wouldn't have worked on her anyway. To his surprise, as Ivy spotted fear in the man's eyes, she let him go, wrapping herself again in the blankets and leaving him there on the floor, shocked and mentally wrecked: this wasn't going to be easy.

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**A/N:**

**My intention is to make a second chapter and then stop or an actual long fanfiction about this. I'd love to hear opinions! I'm a shipper of these two, but I'd like to keep them as in character as I can. I'm looking forward to hear from you guys! (And sorry for any possible mistakes in this, I'm Italian and not that much of a writer too xD)**


	2. Despise

A/N: First of all, thank you for all the feedback!

You may find a few more mistakes in this chapter, sorry about that! However, I hope this will be readable and entertaining. I'm not sure if I should continue this project though, because I don't feel this is good enough. Any feedback?

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-Wake up, scums!  
The keys' tingling broke the silence, the darkness soon being replaced by the lights. Crane made some deep noises before completely standing up, his whole body was aching because of the cold floor he had slept on: he groaned, rubbing his tired blue eyes, which idly wandered around the room. Ivy seemed to feel rather fine as she sat on the bed, tying her hair in a messy bun and following the guards. She didn't seem too bothered by Crane's presence: as long as he wouldn't step in her business, it was fine. A grin splitted on her lips as the thought of Crane beating her ran through her mind. How could she possibly be careful about him? He was so scrawny, so petite, he couldn't hurt anybody.

Jonathan slowly followed the crowd of criminals, stumbling on his own feet more than once because of the pain he was feeling everywhere on his body. As they arrived to the cafeteria, a huge queue started to form in front of his eyes, the villains were starting a fight because of the low quantity of food they would serve. However, it only took it some minutes for them to calm down, and Jonathan could finally take his portion, his eyes wandering around the room to find a chair to sit on. That's when he realized how overcrowded Arkham was. The only table left was the Joker's.

If the Scarecrow had been fed to the vultures, it would have been less painful than having a conversation with the Joker and his henchwoman, Harley.  
Jonathan liked Harley, but her completely devotion to the clown was more than upsetting, it was disturbing and sick. Like him.  
He sat on the chair in front of them with nonchalance, trying to concentrate on eating and avoiding eye-contact at all. The clown  
-Oh, Harls, guess who joined us? Johnny boy! What brings you here?  
_Why did he have to talk? Why couldn't he just shut up? Why was he his favourite victim?_  
-Aww c'mon Puddin'! Leave him alone, ya know he doesn't wanna be bothered! Oh! Oh! Johnny! Who are ya sharing the cell with? I'm with my Puddin'!  
-My cellmate is Pamela Isley.  
-You're sharing the cell with the weed lady? Take care, you wouldn't like to see what happens if you try to ruin her plans...and plants. Got it, Harls?  
-Oh Puddin' ya're just so great, that was such a great joke!  
_How could she even laugh? That was such a terrible joke... was it love? Was it fear?_ Whatever it was, it was too disturbing to handle. The Scarecrow stood up, the chair falling back as he threw the remaining hot coffee at the Joker's face, before leaving.  
He almost ran to his cell, fists clenching and unclenching in anger and frustration. Why did he have that reaction? He used to be calm and respectful, and the Joker hadn't even been too sick. But the lack of sleep and being stuck in Arkham weren't helping his mood, and his endurance was being way too low.

He had been in the Asylum for less than a day, and he had already screwed up everything. He bit his bottom lip in anger, he didn't want to cry, he couldn't cry, he was the Master of Fear... and he was crying. He was crying his heart out. First, Batman had ruined his plans once again, then he had slept on the cold floor of a cell...then the Joker...Harley...Ivy. Ivy was probably the one he wasn't too angry with, at least he knew her verbal harassment couldn't be too cruel if he would have kept a decent behavior. He had to find a way to get out of that place. And he was going to do it alone: he would have demonstrated them he was more than the scrawny little kid he used to be. They had to respect him, he would have punished them all.  
Jonathan Crane was dead.  
The Scarecrow would have striked again.

Crane's thoughts were interrupted by the voice of a guard, who was singing in the middle of the hallway next to his cell. He seemed drunk, completely drunk. Why was there a drunk guard in the middle of a prison for supervillains? The reason wasn't important at this point, the Scarecrow couldn't waste his time. He quickly jumped on him, punching him in the stomach with all the force he had. After a while, the guard fell unconscious on the floor, and Jonathan quickly took his clothes off, putting them on in a matter of seconds. A content grin splitted on his lips as he walked through the asylum, nobody had noticed his trick at all. The Joker gritted his teeth in envy and anger, every other villain was watching him in amusement.

-Your evil laughter is disturbing me.  
A voice broke the silence. As the Scarecrow opened his eyes, he saw two green legs standing in front of him. His eyes wandered around the dark cell in confusion before landing on Ivy once again.  
-Just...a dream.  
He whispered, his expression changing from a smile to a frown in a matter of seconds.  
-Excuse me?  
-Nevermind...just leave me alone.  
She didn't reply, her response was a little bag she threw at his face, before sitting on the bed. Crane was hit on the bridge of his broken nose before the object fell on the floor. He glared at her, slowly opening it and picking up what was inside. A sandwich. She had brought him a sandwich.  
-I see you had a fight with the Joker and you threw your food at him. I thought you would have been hungry so I asked the guards for a little extra.  
-And did they...give it to you like that?  
Ivy placed a hand in her Arkham shirt, reaching for the lipstick she had hidden in her bra, showing it to her cellmate.  
-I can be very, very persuasive. And it's okay, I would have done the same if I had been in your shoes. The scene made me giggle, a lot.  
A smile curled on her lips, a soft and genuine one, one of the smiles that make hearts melt. One of the smiles the Scarecrow wasn't used to receive. He stared at her for a few more seconds, before his eyes landed on the sandwich once again.  
-That clown deserves death. I would torture him until that creepy smile would turn upside down. And thank you for the sandwich. Would you like half? I don't really eat a lot anyways...  
-You should, you are way too thin. But I'll gladly accept the offer, I'm rather hungry myself.  
Jonathan divided the sandwich in halves and handed one to her. The floor would have felt hard and cold that night too, but maybe he would have been used to this cell-sharing.


End file.
